An Assassin's Creed
by SilverInk.IvoryQuill
Summary: Laura Roslin, aka Red Rose, is Caprica City's most famous private intelligencer and sometimes assassin - and the most hunted one, especially by Detective Bill Adama. This is what happens when she breaks into Joseph Adama's law and also meets his little grandson.
1. An Assassin's Creed

**Dear Inkdrops, this is a little something I wrote this morning because I just felt like doing it :) It is DEFINITELY AU and I hope you enjoy a gangster Laura ;)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own BSG**

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 **An Assassin's Creed**

Caprica High End Law Firm? Security? It was a joke! Laura couldn't believe it! The systems were outdated, the camera coverage so horrible that it was easy for her to slide from one blindspot into the other. Of course a situation like this also had its risks. One tended to get inattentive and sloppy. But not her. Laura Roslin never got sloppy. That was what had kept the "Red Rose" alive for so long, had kept her in business, had made her the most successful private intelligencer that Caprica City had ever seen. That probably the Twelve Colonies had ever seen. It also made her the most searched and hunted person in the whole city, but well, fame came with a price. Laura wasn't scared of it, after all she had also mastered the art of blending in. Nobody would ever imagine a part-time teacher by day to hunt down people for money at night, would they?

This job right here should be her last one, at least for a while. The gangster lady had decided that it was safer to lay low for a couple of months, let grass grow over a few incidents. Her patrons this time were a ring of drug dealers, at least that was what Laura was guessing, they had never met in person. Those guys were very interested in the records of one of Joseph Adama's clients. While doing her research she had found out that this Adama usually defended the worst of the worst, so Laura didn't really have concerns about probably ruining and indirectly ending the client's life by giving information to the dealers. Let the low-life of Caprica City kill each other, it was not her problem.

As a intelligencer and sometimes assassin if necessary, Laura had very little principles that she kept upright: No unnecessary torture, no support of rape, no waste of innocent lifes if possible and under no circumstances kill a kid.

Sometimes, when she was in a good mood, she left the police some clues about rapists, murderes and criminals of that kind, always signed with her nickname. She never sold out somebody who had employed her and never somebody who had a group that might want revenge. She did want to survive after all. No, always just about those people who could disappear and nobody in the big Caprica City Underworld would ever care about. The police had no idea where to start searching for her, the only one who actually seemed to have any brain was an officer about her age, maybe a bit older, a veteran from the First Cylon War - Bill Adama. Unfortunately the son of the lawyer she was planning to steal from. But never mind. That wouldn't stop her.

When she had made it to the entrance door without being caught by the cameras, she expertedly picked the lock and crept inside. She had acquainted herself with the building before (undercover was so much fun) and knew that the technical maintenance room was over to the right. After picking the next lock, too, she connected her phone to the computer standing on a console, uploading a pretty little virus into the system. This would knock out the whole alarm system and all of the telecommunication. It was nearly perfect, one of her own developments she was the most proud of.

It still was better to be careful so she always remembered taking back her phone right away, putting into the pocket of her tight black jeans. Yes, she did own a full body suit and yes, she did look really good in it, but generally preferred a more casual outfit. That meant something along the lines of black tight fitted trousers, a black jacket with a hood she could fight well in and that was big enough to hide guns under it and heavy combat boots. And a black mask of course. In case she got caught by a camera. And to feel fancy, even though she would never admit that.

Going back into the foyer she kept silent while walking up the stairs up to the second floor. It was not fully dark, the emergency lighting was still on, so the intelligencer didnt need a torchlight. She passed an office saying "Romo Larpkin, Associate" until she finally reached the right door - "Joseph Adama, Lawyer". It was an office that Laura hadn't been able to see from the street so she had no idea about its size or layout. Just when the woman wanted to press down the door handle, she realized light was floating into the corridor from under the door. Shit! Adama must still be in the building! At this time?! Quickly she pressed herself against the wall, listening intently. She wasn't prepared though to hear a boy's voice coming to her ears.

"But Granddad I don't want to go home!" he complained loudly, Laura had the impression he was even stomping his foot, "Dad is on the night shift and Mom has probably drunken too much again and will be mad when I come home so I want to wait until she is asleep. Please?"

"Lee, I am going home now and so are you!" a stern voice replied, "and you are lucky I am not talking to your father or you'd already be in big trouble! Come on now boy, you have school tomorrow!"

The kid murmured something Laura couldn't understand but it didn't sound too pleased. Then a chair was pulled back. With the routine of a serial violator of the law she looked around, scouting her surroundings for a hiding place. The corridor was empty but the next door was also secured by a lock. There was definitely not enough time to pick it. She would definitely be caught. So she just kept leaning to the wall next to the door, quietly in the shadows. It didn't really matter, they didn't stand a chance anyway. Old Adama was in his sixties and she would knock him out in less than thirty seconds. Baby Adama would probably be too surprised to do anything. If he screamed, nobody would hear him. If he told his Daddy about her, so be it. She was famous anyway. Besides, there was no chance one could see any part of her face under that big black hood she wore together with the black eyemask

The office door opened, hiding her from view for a moment.

"Granddad," she heard the boy, presumably called Lee, say, " there is someone here!"

Laura grinned to herself, this little one was a smart cookie with a good gut feeling. He'd probably make a fine police officer one day.

"Lee, don't be ridiculous. You always see those things that arent there. We are the last ones here," the older one scoffed while turning around and closing the door.

The kid was hopping from one foot to the other, apparently not able to keep still. His age was hard to guess in the crappy light but he must be around eight or so. His grandfather took him by the hand and led him away from Laura who was still standing rooted to her spot, breathing quietly. Apparently by instinct, Lee turned around again at the end of the corridor. He seemed to focus on her intendly with his eyes, then shook his head as if willing himself to wake up from a dream. Both disappeared around the corner, steps getting quieter and quieter. When they were totally gone and the assassin was sure that nobody had discovered her little stunt with the security system, she broke into the office.

Finding the documents was easy, getting out even easier. Nobody in the nearly empty streets gave a woman clad in dark in the middle of the night a second glance when she delivered the intel to the meeting point, hiding it being a rubbish dumpster. Still, she felt there was one thing she had to do, a little amusement for herself.

The next morning, when Bill Adama came home from his night shift, a flower was laying in front of his door step. Frowning he picked up the blood red rose, noticing the paper attached to it. It was a single sheet, rolled together. The message was printed, so he could identify no handwriting, saying

 _Regards to Lee Adama, who is more observant than one gives him credit for. Sincerely, Red Rose_

With wide eyes, he stared at the message. For some reason he didn't doubt for a moment that it was authentic. But how on earth did they know Lee? Bursting into the house, he saw a very tired son sitting at the breakfast table.

"Lee, where have you been last night and what have you to say to that?", he barked, showing him the sheet of paper.

A smile spread over the boy's face.

"So I am not seeing ghosts after all!"

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 **What do you think? Would you like to read more Caprica Crime?**


	2. Announcement and Sneak peak

**Dear Inkdrops,**  
 **I have decided to write a Sequel to "An Assasin's Creed".**  
 **To be precise, there are very likely going to be a couple of shorter stories, the series is going to be called**  
 **Caprica City Crimes**  
 **(CCC)**  
 **The first novel is**

 **"Blood on Diamonds"**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own BSG**

 **Excerpt from Prologue**

A night in Caprica City is like a night in any big city. There are the skyscrapers that never seem to darken, the people that never seem to sleep, the music in the clubs and bars that never seems to stop - it's the same kind of houses, the same kind of people, the same kind of music one would find on Picon. Or Tauron. Maybe even Gemenon, if one searches long enough. And still, there is something different about Caprica City. Maybe it is the smell of sophistication in the air? Maybe it is the feeling of progress in the wind? Maybe it is the distant humming of prophecy in the leaves of the trees? The common folk calls it flair and tries to pinpoint it in brochures. The poets call it soul and try to immortalize it in their works of art. Whatever it is - Caprica has it.

That was the city that greeted their Gangster Queen from the window of the little flat she was currently staying at, right in the middle of everything. It was only two rooms and a little kitchen and the excuse of a bathroom, but it was enough. After all, the purpose of all this was to have a place to store her gear and to have a safehouse, in case something happened to her in the city centre. And the view was fantastic, that was another positive point. Especially from the rooftop. Maybe she would go up there later, if the weather stayed nice. Her neighbours thought she was a bit odd, because she was nearly never home, but she had told everybody that she preferred living a bit further in the suburbs and only kept the apartment in case she went out and it got late. That was actually quite the truth. The woman usually didn't lie if it wasn't necessary - lying was just a waste of energy if one could avoid it.

Laura didn't really have a reason to be where she was that night, it was more a Routine check-up, clean the sniper rifles, stock up the little fridge, even wipe down the bathroom. It was all stuff that had to be done and the "Red Rose" always did what had to be done, no question. She hid the weapons again under the floorboards and just wanted to leave the rooms for the roof, when her phone rang. Not the "Laura Roslin Phone" with its silver case and black book quotes on it. No, the "Red Rose Phone", the black one, the one with the number only contacted by members of the Caprica City Underworld. People requiring her service as an inteligencer. Or assasssin. Depending.

"Frak!", she cursed.

That would be the end of her holiday. The holiday that had just started after this little coup at Joseph Adama's law firm a week ago. Because if it wasn't too weird, Laura wouldn't say no to a job offer. Not because they forced her. Not because she needed the money. Simply because she loved the kick. It was her own personal drug.

 **That is the first teaser, the whole prologue will be out soon!**


End file.
